So Much for a Peaceful Afternoon
by FazzyGrl.22
Summary: September, 1956. Alice Kirkland's day was wonderful. Quiet, peaceful, with nothing to bother her. That is, until her brother barged into her house with bothersome news about France. Nyotalia/Hetalia.


**Author's Note: **_Bon jour! _Ummm... yeah. This is just a little thing I came up with at the spur of the moment. Probably isn't all that great.. but.. Well, here's the thing:

You know that scene in APH when France asks Britain to marry him? Well, it's actually based on a historical moment in 1956 after the Suez Crisis. France asked Britain if they would like to form a union where the two countries were joined and Queen Elizabeth II ruled as sovereign. The British declined this offer, and even declined France's request to be part of the Commonwealth later on.

Now, if you've read some of my other Hetalia stories, you'll notice that I love using Nyotalia. I find them to be nice little additions to the main characters and historical events. So, after seeing that scene and reading about the Suez Crisis, I began thinking "What would happen if France tried to ask Nyo!Britain to marry him after his proposal to Britain failed?" XDD I thought it'd be funny to try and write up that scenario. Of course, in my headcanon, Nyo!Britain is a prim and proper English lady, so writing her was way too fun. She keeps her cool and just scolds people, but when she looses grip or is caught off guard, I like to think that she gets as ornery and as angry as her brother.

As for Nyo!France, I like to think that she's very fashion-sensitive, a bit full of herself, flirtatious, but more sensible than her brother. And perhaps a little less of a twat and stauncher. ;) Britain may or may not be attracted to her. But she prefers Spain. XDD

I hope I didn't make France out to be a creep or pervert or anything.. That wasn't my intention. He was just desperate, is all. He wasn't going to do anything to Alice, just take her back home and marry her, against her will. XDD

* * *

**September 1956**

Alice Kirkland was sitting peacefully at her home in London, watching the television while knitting a new scarf for one of her friend's children. It would be a beautiful scarf, a mixture of lovely blues and greens. She smiled to herself. Today was a good day. Everything was quite peaceful, which hadn't always been the case. Her brother sure had a way of making enemies, as seen in the Second World War.

But, as she always said, that was in the past. Everyone was moving on now, she was happy to see. And life on her and her brother's land was beginning to look up. Rationing had come to an end. People were living better lives and smiling more. Children were more carefree and the Queen was on the throne leading her new rule. The BBC was broadcasted on the television. Speaking of the BBC, she wasn't quite sure what was on at the moment. It seemed like some news report. As she looked up from her knitting to see what was being broadcasted, she heard the front door slam.

"I've never heard such unmitigated tripe in all my life!"

Alice didn't need to look toward the door to see who was storming through her house.

"What's the matter, Arthur?"

Arthur Kirkland, in question, stormed toward his sister and stood in front of her. "What is the matter, you ask? What is the matter? That foppish twit of a Frenchman just _asked for my hand in marriage! _He even practically forced me to sign a marriage license! Do you know how ridiculous that is?" he exclaimed.

Alice only responded by raising her eyebrows. She focused her attention on her knitting.

"And do you know how I replied?"

"You hopefully did not tear him to shreds? You know how hard it is to remove bloodstains? Nigh impossible!" She concernedly eyed his clothing.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, I did not 'tear him to shreds.' I only hit him a couple of times. He may have a bloodied lip, and maybe a broken bone or two…"

Alice shook her head. "Of course. You two just always have to fight, don't you?"

"Well, better than marrying that twat!" Arthur scoffed. He plopped down onto a nearby chair and just stared into the television. A perpetual frown was on his face. Alice just shrugged and continued knitting. She wouldn't let her brother's outbursts ruin her peaceful afternoon. He would soon get bored and go get something to eat or drink.

There was a knock on their door.

"Well, who could that be?" Alice muttered.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Oh Lord. If it's France, tell him I'm not home! I've done all I can to escape from him, and now he may have followed me here! Tell him I'm sick or I've gone away or you haven't seen me! Just, tell him anything!"

He dashed out of the room and she heard him close one of the bedroom doors. She supposed he locked it as well. Suppressing a giggle, Alice rose from her seat and headed for the door. It turned out her brother was right, for standing in the doorway was France.

Alice did her best to contain her exasperation. "Hello, France," she sighed.

_Perfect! Just as planned! _France couldn't help but smile openly at the British damsel who was evenly staring back at him. After his proposition with Britain had failed, France had gotten an earful from his boss.

"_What are we supposed to do now, you idiot? Our union with the British would have given us ample resources and funds!"_

_France winced as his boss yelled at him through the telephone. _

"_I suppose I could try again… Even though that blasted Englishman has marred my beautiful face!" he whined, wiping away blood from his mouth._

"_Damn your precious face, Francis!" The man yelled in response. "Find some sort of alternative! And make it fast!"_

_An idea dawned upon France. "Britain has a sister, now that I think about it. I remember Marianne met her at one time."_

"_Do you think you could talk to her?" His boss's voice now held hope._

"_I shall try."_

"_Don't 'try,' Francis. Do!"_

And that had been their conversation. Now, as Francis smiled at Alice Kirkland, he began formulating how he would go about asking this lady to marry him instead. Granted, she wasn't the most beautiful of ladies he had ever met. She wore glasses that partially hid her grayish-green eyes and her hair was pulled back in a rather unappealing fashion. Her face would have been prettier, as well, if she applied at least a slight amount of cosmetics and didn't look so severe. But he would ignore the outer image and hope that there was _une princesse_ underneath. After all, this was for the welfare of his people… and himself.

"_Bon jour, Madame Angleterre," _he spoke with as much suave as he possibly could. In other words, he was laying it on thick. And Alice noticed. Needless to say, she was not impressed.

"What is it you want?" she demanded, dreading his answer. She could feel her moment of blissful solitude slipping away.

"My my, aren't we a little grumpy today! I just came to visit. Can I not at least sit down for a minute and chat with you; a little tête-à-tête, one would say?"

_So much for my peaceful afternoon, _she thought mournfully. Opening the door a little wider, she stood back to let the Frenchman in. Heaven forbid _she_ would be the one that would cause France to say that the British weren't hospitable!

"Please be seated," she said. Once he was seated, she turned the television off and sat down herself, resuming her knitting.

"Would you like some tea, perhaps?" She asked. _There, _she thought. _I'm being as decent to him as I would be to any other person. I shall not need to fear him spreading rumors around that I am not hospitable!_

"Oh, no," France said good-naturedly. "No need to trouble yourself. I know it's not your scheduled tea-time yet, so I'm sure you haven't even put the kettle on. I don't want you to go out of your way to make me feel comfortable." _Especially considering what I'm about to propose…_

Alice raised her eyebrows, a bit surprised.

_Well, that was certainly thoughtful of him… Arthur never mentioned him being thoughtful. _

She lowered her eyes and suspiciously stared at her needlework. There had to be some hidden motive for his thoughtful words. Now that she thought about it, why exactly was he here? She could feel the fellow nation's eyes watching her, but she didn't let that bother her and proceeded to keep calm. Maybe his motives for coming didn't have to do with her? Perhaps the afternoon wasn't wholly spoiled? She could only hope that France was indeed looking for Arthur and would leave when she told him he wasn't around.

After a minute's silence, she spoke. "If you are here to see my brother, Monsieur, I am afraid to say that he is not here at the moment. To be sure, I haven't seen him all day."

France smiled. She was doing a wonderful job at knitting that scarf.

"I did not come here to see Britain."

The knitting continued. "Oh?"

"No. I came to see you, _Mademoiselle._"

Little warning red flags were waving about inside her head, but she continued knitting.

"And why, pray tell, would you care to see me? You know my brother better than you know me. If you have any political or governmental business, you should take it up with him instead."

"Ah, but my dear, this concerns you as well as your brother."

She blinked. The knitting process slowed for a minute as she came into eye contact with France, but resumed its speed shortly after.

"What is it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "My dear lady, you …" He blinked. Suddenly, he had no words to say. What kind of compliments would woo Britain's twin sister? "You…"

She stared at him deadpanned with one eyebrow raised. France struggled for the right words. This was not easy.

"You and I…"

She slowly nodded. "You and I?"

He looked at her and genuinely smiled, laughing a little. "Good gracious, it's hard to talk to you! I just… I … I feel that we need to get to know each other more! I never realized just how… stunning a girl Britain's sister was! I'm sure that without your glasses, your eyes would just … sparkle!"

_This is not going well at all…_

She sighed. "Enough beating around the bush, Sir. What is it that you really want? Money? You French always seem to want money." She shook her head disapprovingly and resumed her knitting.

He inwardly shrugged. _Well, might as well come out and say it._

"Miss Kirkland. Ah... What is your Christian name?"

She raised her head and narrowed her eyes. "Alice…"

"Ah! Alice. Lovely name! Alice, I have to ask you a question. Now, don't get excited or anything before you hear me out!"

She sighed, exasperation rising. The knitting continued. "All right?"

_Here goes nothing._ "As you probably know, after the whole incident over in the Middle East, my forces have been … struggling."

"And you need help?" She asked. "Like I said, my brother would be the one to -"

Her remark was interrupted by France kneeling in front of her and grabbing one of her hands. She was completely thrown off of her guard.

"_Mister Bonnefoy! _What do you think you're doing?!" she squealed.

"Alice Kirkland, will you marry me?" he exclaimed.

"Will I _what?!" _Her voice reached a high pitch that it usually didn't reach. She was completely and utterly horrified.

"Have you lost your mind?! Look here! You- Hey!" She began to panic as France began kissing her hand. She was so flabbergasted that her words came out in garbled fragments.

"What do you think - Get your- Just- I say - Get off- You!" Her knitting became a weapon for her as Alice used it to smack France upside the head again and again.

He tried to avoid the barrage of wool and knitting needles, but that was hard when he continued to hold onto her hand.

"Please try to understand! I asked your brother to marry me, but he outright refused! He beat me up!"

The knitting flew out of her hand and Alice resorted to slapping his hands away. It wasn't working. As France got closer, she tried to escape the man by sinking further into her chair. She was extremely flustered.

"And you think that you can come here and ask me instead? Listen, you … you… frog! You unhand me right this instant! I'm serious now! What gives you the right to handle me in such a way?!"

"I have to marry one of you, or else my boss will kill me!"

Alice had heard this all before from her brother. Apparently, she was the next best option? She just stared at France in shock. For one thing, that was just rude! And another thing, since when was there ever a necessity to wed?

"Couldn't we just become cohorts or something?"

"No, my boss wants our countries to join together to form a union. We could form a common citizenship! Please, I need this!"

He leaned in closer and touched her face. "I can be good," he pleaded.

A man besides her brother had never been this close to her face before. It almost frightened her. Alice shoved his face away and jumped out of her chair.

"There is no way on Earth that I can agree to this! I hardly know you! And you're… you're _France!_" She waved her hand at him, almost accusingly.

She gasped when she saw France slap down a piece of paper and a pen onto a coffee table.

"What is that?"

"It is nothing. Here!" He stood, grabbed her by the arm and directed her over to the table. "I just need you to sign this…"

She saw the document and shrieked, "That's a marriage license certificate! No! No way am I signing this!"

"Please, Alice, you must!"

"No I certainly must _not! _Let me go!"

She jerked away from him and snatched the certificate up in her hands.

"I am not ready to marry anyone," she exclaimed, "let alone some French man who goes around waving flowers in everyone's face and who prattles on about nothing but love and other such foolishness! This is for being so rude and brash!"

She ripped the document to shreds.

"Why are you British so mean?" France wailed. "I told you I needed this!"

"That's what you get for forcing me into signing something! You should have known better! My brother gave you a hard time so what made you think that I would be easier? If you think you know anything about me, frog, you've got another thing coming! I could –ACH!"

France chuckled to himself as he swooped under and scooped her up onto his shoulder. Hauling her up like a sack of potatoes, he smiled to himself.

"If I can't reason with you, this will have to do, my dear," he said, a bit too gleefully.

"What in the name of Mike do you think you're doing?! I'll have you court-marshaled for this! How dare you think you can treat a woman like this and get away with it? Unhand me at once! Do you hear? At once, I say! Look here I won't stand for this!"

She beat his back again and again with her fists and tried to kick his stomach, but he got a hold of her legs with one hand as he held her with his other. She was beginning realize the peril she was truly in. If something didn't happen soon, she would be married to this twat. Her home and her people would have to put up with closer relations to the French! Queen Elizabeth II would have to rule two empires!

"Arthur!" she shouted frantically. "Arthur! You'd better get down here right now, or so help me; I'll put the worst curse on your head that you could possibly imagine! You'll be spitting out flies for the next few years! _Arthur!" _

"Alice? What the devil?!"

_Merde! _France tried his best to quickly head for the door, but he could hear Britain coming up behind him real fast.

"I knew you'd come back, France! You're all too predictable! Now, unhand my sister!"

"If I can't marry you, I can marry her! I need this union to happen, Britain!"

"I will allow no such thing! Look here, she's my sister, and I have to approve of her marriages! And I say No!"

Alice did her best to peer up at her brother from her position on France's shoulder. Her hair was falling out of its bun and streaming around her face. Her glasses had fallen off and she squinted up at Britain.

"Brother, how many times do I tell you not to get me involved in your – Hey wait!"

France turned around to face his opponent, which caused Alice to face the wall.

"What's wrong with the notion of our countries unifying anyway? Tell me that!"

"Well you see, you and I have always been -"

"Excuse me!" Alice exclaimed, heated. "Can you please kindly _put me down?! _This is most undignified!" She wagged her legs in the air, underskirts showing.

France laughed. "I am sorry. Here, I'll put you down." He set her down and grinned at her. "You're quite adorable when you're mad!" Alice just glared up at him.

"Don't you even start, you bloody git! I'm so tempted to just knock you flat! This was such a peaceful afternoon until you boys just barged into the house!" She jabbed her index finger into France's chest, glowering at him.

"But -"

She jerked her hand up. "No! No buts! Now get out of my house before I get my shotgun!" She marched up to the door and swung it open, pointing outside. She paused, though, when her finger hit silk.

"Wha-"

"Good heavens! Give a girl a warning before you stab her, please, _Angleterre_!"

Alice turned and fell back against France. "Oh no… What are _you_ doing here?!"

France grinned. "Well, this is a surprise, Marianne!"

Indeed, it was his sister Marianne Bonnefoy, at the door of the Kirklands' household. She stared at the situation with a smug, amused expression. France's sister was lovely, sporting a long flowing skirt, fancy blouse and elegant cloak. She wore expensive gloves on her hands and her hair was pulled up in a fashionable style. Her violet eyes sparkled.

"I came to offer you some assistance, brother. Your boss told me that you were having trouble convincing these two to marry you, so he asked me to come and see if I could do the trick."

She walked over to Britain and stroked his tie. "What do you say_, cher? _Perhaps my brother was too forceful. I'm gentler." Her voice was deep and dusky.

He grimaced. "Don't think so, frog princess."

"Can you two please bugger off?" Alice snapped. "There's not going to be any treaty nor is there going to be a marriage!"

"You know, when you're angry, you really are attractive, _mon mignon. _And why don't you wear your hair down like that? It suits you better," France said. Looking up at him, Alice was secretly surprised to see that he was in earnest. But she hid her amazement and remained angry.

"You keep your mouth shut! I'm warning you, France! And get your hands off of my brother, Marianne!"

Marianne stepped away, not wishing to start a fight right after she had gotten her new glorious cloak. The two French siblings amusedly looked at their opponents. It really was quite funny to see how the British brother and sister did look and act quite alike. Right now, both of them were red-faced and glaring at France and Marianne. Their usually-composed mannerisms were frazzled and Alice's hair was strewn around her face in an unkempt fashion. France, however, did truly think she looked cuter that way.

After a moment's pause, Britain heaved a sigh and passed a hand over his eyes. "Now, let's talk about this rationally. France, I told you that a marriage between you and me, or you and Alice wouldn't work already. My boss declined the offer. You both need to learn how to take care of yourselves. We will have none of your sponging onto our assets and resources. And another thing! You can't just barge in here and force a woman to accept your proposal! I thought you knew better!"

France looked sheepish. "I do apologize, chérie," he said, looking at Alice. "I did act a little desperate." He pulled out a rose from seemingly nowhere and handed it to her, while taking her hand and kissing it. She merely let out an unamused laugh and gingerly pulled her hand away.

"Oh, come now, Britain, you don't think being married to me would be at least a little fun?" Marianne winked at him. Britain was not in the least bit swayed.

"Let me think about that. No."

Marianne sighed and shook her head. "It seems we have no chance, brother." In truth, she didn't really care whether or not a marriage, or union, or whatever would happen between the two countries. She had been forced away from a fashion show to help her brother with these two annoying English people, and she had been none too happy about it. Besides, she truly didn't find Britain – or his sister – all that attractive in the first place. She had always thought Spain had the better looks.

France wouldn't give up that easily, however. "We can still…"

"Still what? Alice destroyed the marriage document already anyway, am I right?"

At the sight of France nodding remorsefully, she just patted him on the shoulder. "We only have one alternative: retreat."

France did his own sighing out of exasperation and raised his hands. "I'm a dead man."

"Oh you'll be fine," Britain scoffed. "Now get along with the two of you." He waved them to the door.

Before France left the house, he turned once more to Alice and cuffed her chin gently. "Your eyes really are lovely without those glasses. They are like the sea after a storm…"

She blinked, taken aback. Then she angrily looked away. "Whatever," she muttered.

Chuckling, France turned to Britain and mockingly saluted him. "See you later."

He just glared back at him. Marianne, following her brother, suddenly leaned in and kissed Britain on the cheek. Even though she didn't find him to be that attractive, she had always enjoyed messing with him. And his face turned a beet red to her delight.

"You both be good now!" She winked at Britain and then at Alice, who just turned away, fuming.

There were too many French people in her house, especially too many French people who liked to invade her personal space and give her random compliments about her eyes. What was the matter with that man? She looked attractive when angry? "Eyes like the sea after a storm?" Who would say that? He was supposed to fight with her brother. Not come into her house, trying to woo her sloppily and leaving her confused. Alice closed her eyes. She was beginning to feel extremely tired. She decided to ignore the idea that those compliments about her did feel rather nice and had been some of the few that she ever got…

The door shut and the brother and sister were finally left alone. Britain, face flushed, turned to Alice and wryly smiled, smudging away the lipstick that lingered on his cheek.

"Well. Glad that's all over. Aren't you?"

Alice slowly turned to her brother and punched him dead in the face.

It served him right for spoiling her peaceful afternoon.


End file.
